


Acceptance

by tahirire



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comment Fic, Evil Sam Winchester, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-08
Updated: 2008-08-08
Packaged: 2017-10-26 07:26:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/280355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tahirire/pseuds/tahirire





	Acceptance

You suppose you oughta get ready somehow, call somebody or somethin', let 'em know you ain't gonna be around anymore - but there's no need, really. They'll all know what happened to you - if any of them are still alive to care.

So instead you just wait inside your overstuffed living room, like a caged animal. You could run but it just ain't in you. You don't even sit under the Key, and you wonder just what made you decide to offer up your life like a dog.

The sky got dark a couplea hours back, and you guess that's when you knew for sure he'd be comin', but really, you knew it the second your hand closed around the barrel of the Colt. The moment you took it from the hunter who died trying to keep its location secret.

That poor bastard had no idea you'd turn right around and hand it to the one person he'd hoped would never find it.

Truth is, you'll give it to him when he arrives. You'll hand it over without a second's hesitation, no matter how much of the country has burned, no matter how much innocent blood he's spilled in his frantic search.

You'll give the Colt to Sam, even if he kills you for it.

Because no matter what Sam's become, you know what he's trying to do. You know what it feels like inside to lose your family, and even if you ain't a damn Winchester, not really, that boy is your kin plain and simple, and truth is, you got hurt almost as bad as he did when Dean was ripped away.

Hell, if you had that kind of power, you'd probably be out there doin' the same damn fool thing the boy is doin'.

When he shows up, he doesn't talk to you, he just holds out his hand. Ozone leeches the oxygen out of the air around him, and you can't help but see the darkness creeping through the whites of his eyes, but you don't care.

You hand it over, and his hand burns you, heats the gunmetal red, but you don't say anything. You just look him in the eyes, tryin' to tell him best you can that you understand, even if it ain't O.K.

Even as your blood runs red across the worn boards of the floor, you hope he makes it. Because if Sam saves Dean, then maybe - just maybe - Dean can save Sam, too. 

 _Good luck, Son. Be careful._   



End file.
